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                            Celebrities who have had second lives as memes
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                        
                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            Hilarious Woman Yelling at Smudge the Cat Meme Finds Second Life on Twitter
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
    






    

    
    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

        

            
            

                
                
                    clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading
: feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

        

            
            

                
                
                    feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading
: feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

                    
                
            

            
                
                
feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)
: spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)

        

            
            

                
                
                    spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)
: spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)

                    
                
            

            
                
                
spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake
: saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake

        

            
            

                
                
                    saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake
: saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”



: the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”




        

            
            

                
                
                    the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”



: the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”




                    
                
            

            
                
                
the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.
: clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.

        

            
            

                
                
                    clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.
: clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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                    5 second rule: 5 second rule
                    
                
            

            
                
                
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        5 Second Rule?: 5 Second Rule?
        

            
            

                
                
                    5 Second Rule?: 5 Second Rule?
                    
                
            

            
                
                
5 Second Rule?

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

        

            
            

                
                
                    cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

                    
                
            

            
                
                
cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the g...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        Look 5 second: Look 5 second
        

            
            

                
                
                    Look 5 second: Look 5 second
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Look 5 second

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        The second wife: The second wife
        

            
            

                
                
                    The second wife: The second wife
                    
                
            

            
                
                
The second wife

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        I second that.: I second that.
        

            
            

                
                
                    I second that.: I second that.
                    
                
            

            
                
                
I second that.

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        frenchie-sottises:

kylehasatumblr:

eggplantusiv:


probablychaoticgoodrpgideas:

definitelybeholderrpgideas:


probablygreenrpgideas:


constantlyonfirerpgideas:


probablyspacerpgideas:


teenagerposts:

chipthepunk:

littleblackmariah:

kingfisherfaker:

gailsimone:

morenamagia:

equiusinamaidoutfit:

eridanamporass:

p41g3r4nk1n:

listenforthesteel:

Some assholes have been putting nails in cheese and treats in dog parks in Chicago and Massachusetts. Also adding antifreeze to water bowls.
 Please watch out for your dogs. And if you find out the address of someone doing this, give me the address and tell no one. I will disembowel them.

Antifreeze is fucking deadly as shit. Whilst my mom worked in the vets office the neighbor of a cat owner had become sick of his neighbors tom spraying by his house so he left antifreeze out for the cat. Animals are weirdly attracted to the smell and will drink it.
The cat was given to the vets and for 2 days it’s insides were slowly dissolved by the acids and it bled from his nose, mouth and even eyes.  
On the second day, the vet not being able to help and refusing to let the cat suffer any longer put the cat down. The neighbor who did not deny his crimes didn’t even offer to pay the woman’s vet bill.
SO THE BIGGEST FUCKING SIGNAL BOOST TO THIS POST.
Fuck who ever is doing this. They can fucking burn.


my friend had a cat and it drank antifreeze that was puddled in the driveway and one day they were knitting and it just vomited up all of its internal organs and fell over dead on her lap.

The perpetrators of all of this will burn in Hell. 

A neighbor of mine threw a ball of hamburger full of rat poison pellets over our fence for my son’s dog. He survived, barely, but has had nerve damage ever since.

Okay, listen up, if your pet drinks antifreeze, do you know what the cure is? Alcohol. That’s right. To save your furry little friend you have to get them drunk out of their faces. Antifreeze is an inhibitor and stops your enzymes from working, but luckily alcohol stops that from happening. I learned this from my A Level Biology lessons, but here’s a source anyway http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/2617997.stm

Shit this is important SIGNAL BOOST THIS THANK YOU ALICE


BOOST.FUCKING BOOST.

ALWAYS REBLOG


not blog related, but I’m not an asshole


S I G N A L 
B O O S T


keep your animal friends safe.


Even a Beholder wouldn’t do this. Signal Boost


I would not hesitate to drop anyone who would do this into the earth,   s i g n a l   b o o s t


Signal boost


This applies to humans, too.
The first choice is fomepizole, but a lot of vets don’t keep it in stock.
Barring that, clear alcohols like vodka or everclear are a standard treatment for methanol or ethylene glycol poisoning 

We lost one of our cats because of some jerk who wanted to rid some dogs via antifreeze. I still remember going out there and trying to call him for those three days only to find out he suffered alone and died.
Fuck anyone who does this.
: frenchie-sottises:

kylehasatumblr:

eggplantusiv:


probablychaoticgoodrpgideas:

definitelybeholderrpgideas:


probablygreenrpgideas:


constantlyonfirerpgideas:


probablyspacerpgideas:


teenagerposts:

chipthepunk:

littleblackmariah:

kingfisherfaker:

gailsimone:

morenamagia:

equiusinamaidoutfit:

eridanamporass:

p41g3r4nk1n:

listenforthesteel:

Some assholes have been putting nails in cheese and treats in dog parks in Chicago and Massachusetts. Also adding antifreeze to water bowls.
 Please watch out for your dogs. And if you find out the address of someone doing this, give me the address and tell no one. I will disembowel them.

Antifreeze is fucking deadly as shit. Whilst my mom worked in the vets office the neighbor of a cat owner had become sick of his neighbors tom spraying by his house so he left antifreeze out for the cat. Animals are weirdly attracted to the smell and will drink it.
The cat was given to the vets and for 2 days it’s insides were slowly dissolved by the acids and it bled from his nose, mouth and even eyes.  
On the second day, the vet not being able to help and refusing to let the cat suffer any longer put the cat down. The neighbor who did not deny his crimes didn’t even offer to pay the woman’s vet bill.
SO THE BIGGEST FUCKING SIGNAL BOOST TO THIS POST.
Fuck who ever is doing this. They can fucking burn.


my friend had a cat and it drank antifreeze that was puddled in the driveway and one day they were knitting and it just vomited up all of its internal organs and fell over dead on her lap.

The perpetrators of all of this will burn in Hell. 

A neighbor of mine threw a ball of hamburger full of rat poison pellets over our fence for my son’s dog. He survived, barely, but has had nerve damage ever since.

Okay, listen up, if your pet drinks antifreeze, do you know what the cure is? Alcohol. That’s right. To save your furry little friend you have to get them drunk out of their faces. Antifreeze is an inhibitor and stops your enzymes from working, but luckily alcohol stops that from happening. I learned this from my A Level Biology lessons, but here’s a source anyway http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/2617997.stm

Shit this is important SIGNAL BOOST THIS THANK YOU ALICE


BOOST.FUCKING BOOST.

ALWAYS REBLOG


not blog related, but I’m not an asshole


S I G N A L 
B O O S T


keep your animal friends safe.


Even a Beholder wouldn’t do this. Signal Boost


I would not hesitate to drop anyone who would do this into the earth,   s i g n a l   b o o s t


Signal boost


This applies to humans, too.
The first choice is fomepizole, but a lot of vets don’t keep it in stock.
Barring that, clear alcohols like vodka or everclear are a standard treatment for methanol or ethylene glycol poisoning 

We lost one of our cats because of some jerk who wanted to rid some dogs via antifreeze. I still remember going out there and trying to call him for those three days only to find out he suffered alone and died.
Fuck anyone who does this.

        

            
            

                
                
                    frenchie-sottises:

kylehasatumblr:

eggplantusiv:


probablychaoticgoodrpgideas:

definitelybeholderrpgideas:


probablygreenrpgideas:


constantlyonfirerpgideas:


probablyspacerpgideas:


teenagerposts:

chipthepunk:

littleblackmariah:

kingfisherfaker:

gailsimone:

morenamagia:

equiusinamaidoutfit:

eridanamporass:

p41g3r4nk1n:

listenforthesteel:

Some assholes have been putting nails in cheese and treats in dog parks in Chicago and Massachusetts. Also adding antifreeze to water bowls.
 Please watch out for your dogs. And if you find out the address of someone doing this, give me the address and tell no one. I will disembowel them.

Antifreeze is fucking deadly as shit. Whilst my mom worked in the vets office the neighbor of a cat owner had become sick of his neighbors tom spraying by his house so he left antifreeze out for the cat. Animals are weirdly attracted to the smell and will drink it.
The cat was given to the vets and for 2 days it’s insides were slowly dissolved by the acids and it bled from his nose, mouth and even eyes.  
On the second day, the vet not being able to help and refusing to let the cat suffer any longer put the cat down. The neighbor who did not deny his crimes didn’t even offer to pay the woman’s vet bill.
SO THE BIGGEST FUCKING SIGNAL BOOST TO THIS POST.
Fuck who ever is doing this. They can fucking burn.


my friend had a cat and it drank antifreeze that was puddled in the driveway and one day they were knitting and it just vomited up all of its internal organs and fell over dead on her lap.

The perpetrators of all of this will burn in Hell. 

A neighbor of mine threw a ball of hamburger full of rat poison pellets over our fence for my son’s dog. He survived, barely, but has had nerve damage ever since.

Okay, listen up, if your pet drinks antifreeze, do you know what the cure is? Alcohol. That’s right. To save your furry little friend you have to get them drunk out of their faces. Antifreeze is an inhibitor and stops your enzymes from working, but luckily alcohol stops that from happening. I learned this from my A Level Biology lessons, but here’s a source anyway http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/2617997.stm

Shit this is important SIGNAL BOOST THIS THANK YOU ALICE


BOOST.FUCKING BOOST.

ALWAYS REBLOG


not blog related, but I’m not an asshole


S I G N A L 
B O O S T


keep your animal friends safe.


Even a Beholder wouldn’t do this. Signal Boost


I would not hesitate to drop anyone who would do this into the earth,   s i g n a l   b o o s t


Signal boost


This applies to humans, too.
The first choice is fomepizole, but a lot of vets don’t keep it in stock.
Barring that, clear alcohols like vodka or everclear are a standard treatment for methanol or ethylene glycol poisoning 

We lost one of our cats because of some jerk who wanted to rid some dogs via antifreeze. I still remember going out there and trying to call him for those three days only to find out he suffered alone and died.
Fuck anyone who does this.
: frenchie-sottises:

kylehasatumblr:

eggplantusiv:


probablychaoticgoodrpgideas:

definitelybeholderrpgideas:


probablygreenrpgideas:


constantlyonfirerpgideas:


probablyspacerpgideas:


teenagerposts:

chipthepunk:

littleblackmariah:

kingfisherfaker:

gailsimone:

morenamagia:

equiusinamaidoutfit:

eridanamporass:

p41g3r4nk1n:

listenforthesteel:

Some assholes have been putting nails in cheese and treats in dog parks in Chicago and Massachusetts. Also adding antifreeze to water bowls.
 Please watch out for your dogs. And if you find out the address of someone doing this, give me the address and tell no one. I will disembowel them.

Antifreeze is fucking deadly as shit. Whilst my mom worked in the vets office the neighbor of a cat owner had become sick of his neighbors tom spraying by his house so he left antifreeze out for the cat. Animals are weirdly attracted to the smell and will drink it.
The cat was given to the vets and for 2 days it’s insides were slowly dissolved by the acids and it bled from his nose, mouth and even eyes.  
On the second day, the vet not being able to help and refusing to let the cat suffer any longer put the cat down. The neighbor who did not deny his crimes didn’t even offer to pay the woman’s vet bill.
SO THE BIGGEST FUCKING SIGNAL BOOST TO THIS POST.
Fuck who ever is doing this. They can fucking burn.


my friend had a cat and it drank antifreeze that was puddled in the driveway and one day they were knitting and it just vomited up all of its internal organs and fell over dead on her lap.

The perpetrators of all of this will burn in Hell. 

A neighbor of mine threw a ball of hamburger full of rat poison pellets over our fence for my son’s dog. He survived, barely, but has had nerve damage ever since.

Okay, listen up, if your pet drinks antifreeze, do you know what the cure is? Alcohol. That’s right. To save your furry little friend you have to get them drunk out of their faces. Antifreeze is an inhibitor and stops your enzymes from working, but luckily alcohol stops that from happening. I learned this from my A Level Biology lessons, but here’s a source anyway http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/2617997.stm

Shit this is important SIGNAL BOOST THIS THANK YOU ALICE


BOOST.FUCKING BOOST.

ALWAYS REBLOG


not blog related, but I’m not an asshole


S I G N A L 
B O O S T


keep your animal friends safe.


Even a Beholder wouldn’t do this. Signal Boost


I would not hesitate to drop anyone who would do this into the earth,   s i g n a l   b o o s t


Signal boost


This applies to humans, too.
The first choice is fomepizole, but a lot of vets don’t keep it in stock.
Barring that, clear alcohols like vodka or everclear are a standard treatment for methanol or ethylene glycol poisoning 

We lost one of our cats because of some jerk who wanted to rid some dogs via antifreeze. I still remember going out there and trying to call him for those three days only to find out he suffered alone and died.
Fuck anyone who does this.

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
        

            
            

                
                
                    ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
                    
                
            

            
                
                
ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure fal...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
        

            
            

                
                
                    shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. 
Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. 
Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it. 
: ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. 
Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. 
Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. 
Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. 
Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it. 
: ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. 
Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. 
Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it. 

                    
                
            

            
                
                
ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by char...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        peculiarities-starryeyed-oddity:
official-lucifers-child:

totallysilvergirl:


aroace-get-out-of-my-face:

my-analogical-romance:

booknerd-23:


stars-and-rose:


rincentvanuggh:


kimburtrach:

raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul:

katie-the-noble-fangirl:

noctisvale:

celticwarriormoon:

luna-hyakuya:

the-little-ladybug-that-could:


dappyhappy:


JUST LET ME BE.

Reblog if you are an asexual positive blog, believe asexuals exist, and are willing and able to create a safe space for your asexual friends 


As an Asexual myself, YES

As someone who is now 99% sure they might be ace…
YES. THIS. BOTH SIDES NEED TO SEE THIS.

As an asexual, I deal with this a lot, and it’s not okay :/

As an asexual, REBLOG YOU COWARDS

ASEXUALS ARE REAL AND 1000% VALID AND FUCK EVERYBODY ELSE WHO THINKS THEY AREN’T

MY BEST FRIEND IS ACE, SHE DEALS WITH THIS SHIT A LOT AND IT’S NOT OK!

Be happy!! There are people who support you too!!!!


!!!!


As someone on the ace/aro spectrum aces are 100% valid. Anyone who thinks otherwise  can fuck off.


Another one is doctors and therapists telling you you need psychosexual therapy to “cure” your lack of sexual attraction.
If you have ever experienced this, no, you dont need curing.



Yyyyyyyeeeeeesssss

Should go without saying.



i am definitely everyone in that second comic
aces are valid, aces are real, aces are NOT broken, aces are amazing and always welcome and safe on my blog



: peculiarities-starryeyed-oddity:
official-lucifers-child:

totallysilvergirl:


aroace-get-out-of-my-face:

my-analogical-romance:

booknerd-23:


stars-and-rose:


rincentvanuggh:


kimburtrach:

raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul:

katie-the-noble-fangirl:

noctisvale:

celticwarriormoon:

luna-hyakuya:

the-little-ladybug-that-could:


dappyhappy:


JUST LET ME BE.

Reblog if you are an asexual positive blog, believe asexuals exist, and are willing and able to create a safe space for your asexual friends 


As an Asexual myself, YES

As someone who is now 99% sure they might be ace…
YES. THIS. BOTH SIDES NEED TO SEE THIS.

As an asexual, I deal with this a lot, and it’s not okay :/

As an asexual, REBLOG YOU COWARDS

ASEXUALS ARE REAL AND 1000% VALID AND FUCK EVERYBODY ELSE WHO THINKS THEY AREN’T

MY BEST FRIEND IS ACE, SHE DEALS WITH THIS SHIT A LOT AND IT’S NOT OK!

Be happy!! There are people who support you too!!!!


!!!!


As someone on the ace/aro spectrum aces are 100% valid. Anyone who thinks otherwise  can fuck off.


Another one is doctors and therapists telling you you need psychosexual therapy to “cure” your lack of sexual attraction.
If you have ever experienced this, no, you dont need curing.



Yyyyyyyeeeeeesssss

Should go without saying.



i am definitely everyone in that second comic
aces are valid, aces are real, aces are NOT broken, aces are amazing and always welcome and safe on my blog




        

            
            

                
                
                    peculiarities-starryeyed-oddity:
official-lucifers-child:

totallysilvergirl:


aroace-get-out-of-my-face:

my-analogical-romance:

booknerd-23:


stars-and-rose:


rincentvanuggh:


kimburtrach:

raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul:

katie-the-noble-fangirl:

noctisvale:

celticwarriormoon:

luna-hyakuya:

the-little-ladybug-that-could:


dappyhappy:


JUST LET ME BE.

Reblog if you are an asexual positive blog, believe asexuals exist, and are willing and able to create a safe space for your asexual friends 


As an Asexual myself, YES

As someone who is now 99% sure they might be ace…
YES. THIS. BOTH SIDES NEED TO SEE THIS.

As an asexual, I deal with this a lot, and it’s not okay :/

As an asexual, REBLOG YOU COWARDS

ASEXUALS ARE REAL AND 1000% VALID AND FUCK EVERYBODY ELSE WHO THINKS THEY AREN’T

MY BEST FRIEND IS ACE, SHE DEALS WITH THIS SHIT A LOT AND IT’S NOT OK!

Be happy!! There are people who support you too!!!!


!!!!


As someone on the ace/aro spectrum aces are 100% valid. Anyone who thinks otherwise  can fuck off.


Another one is doctors and therapists telling you you need psychosexual therapy to “cure” your lack of sexual attraction.
If you have ever experienced this, no, you dont need curing.



Yyyyyyyeeeeeesssss

Should go without saying.



i am definitely everyone in that second comic
aces are valid, aces are real, aces are NOT broken, aces are amazing and always welcome and safe on my blog



: peculiarities-starryeyed-oddity:
official-lucifers-child:

totallysilvergirl:


aroace-get-out-of-my-face:

my-analogical-romance:

booknerd-23:


stars-and-rose:


rincentvanuggh:


kimburtrach:

raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul:

katie-the-noble-fangirl:

noctisvale:

celticwarriormoon:

luna-hyakuya:

the-little-ladybug-that-could:


dappyhappy:


JUST LET ME BE.

Reblog if you are an asexual positive blog, believe asexuals exist, and are willing and able to create a safe space for your asexual friends 


As an Asexual myself, YES

As someone who is now 99% sure they might be ace…
YES. THIS. BOTH SIDES NEED TO SEE THIS.

As an asexual, I deal with this a lot, and it’s not okay :/

As an asexual, REBLOG YOU COWARDS

ASEXUALS ARE REAL AND 1000% VALID AND FUCK EVERYBODY ELSE WHO THINKS THEY AREN’T

MY BEST FRIEND IS ACE, SHE DEALS WITH THIS SHIT A LOT AND IT’S NOT OK!

Be happy!! There are people who support you too!!!!


!!!!


As someone on the ace/aro spectrum aces are 100% valid. Anyone who thinks otherwise  can fuck off.


Another one is doctors and therapists telling you you need psychosexual therapy to “cure” your lack of sexual attraction.
If you have ever experienced this, no, you dont need curing.



Yyyyyyyeeeeeesssss

Should go without saying.



i am definitely everyone in that second comic
aces are valid, aces are real, aces are NOT broken, aces are amazing and always welcome and safe on my blog




                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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                                    Doja Cat went viral. Now what? A hip-hop meme star gets serious, sort of, for her second act
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
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